This is why
by LeighJ11
Summary: "It's wrong, it's immoral, it's also kind of really weird but she has the most intense crush on Daryl Dixon."
1. Chapter 1

**So, here is prompt two. I decided to split this into two parts because frankly, I feel like I've completed something if I split it into two documents rather than staring at my screen trying to write. I hope you like it!**

It's wrong, it's immoral, it's also kind of really weird but she has the most _intense_ crush on Daryl Dixon.

It wasn't something she thought right away. When she first met him, he didn't even catch her eye. Honestly, nobody caught her eye. She was going through a stage in her life that was quickly resembling a large black hole of nothingness which allowed for no light or joy to fill her days and soon any hope she had was just being continuously sucked out of her.

That was a dark period in her lifeline, one where she couldn't bring herself to sing or get her mind to think of new lyrics; when all her creativity and passion and love she usually felt was being stamped on and destroyed. But then they left the farm, _lost_ it and although she was sad, although she was scared, it was cleansing.

So many happy memories had been made on her little farm, but they were overtaken by the startling fear and depression she experienced so deeply in her last months there, leaving a vivid imprint and a void that, no matter how much she tried to embrace the good over the bad, she couldn't forget about.

It's not something she could explain to someone then let alone now and it's not something that she can make rational sense of either. There was just something that manifested in the very foundation of the house when the walkers came, breathing fear and paranoia until the atmosphere was as tense as a held breath.

The walls were closing in on her practically every day, crushing her free spirit and the song from her lungs until one day they just shut. The day that her mama died and then Shaun soon after that with no downtime to get over the immense change in her life, one without her mama's guidance and support.

Once her mama was taken, there was no one to pull her out of the sinkhole that house became. Deciding to slit her wrist was a huge but very conscious and thought out decision. But when it was time to take action, when she pulled the broken glass over her tender flesh and let it tear, she realised she was feeding it.

Letting her blood splash against the bathroom tiles and absorb the very last of her life force. It was the defining, startling reason why she didn't want to die. Standing there letting that malevolent energy completely take her was not how she wanted to go. She didn't want to give in. She wanted to fight. She wanted to kill and gut and survive like Rick's group.

She wanted to wield a gun and run like she was flying, she wanted to shed the scared little girl who prayed to God and cried for her old life, for all the little things she used to complain about. Beth wanted to be strong, brave and utterly fearless.

To walk with hairy legs and shorts like Andrea, to stand up to judgement and disappointment like Lori, to shout her mouth off and share her opinions like Maggie and be respected like her daddy. Most of all, she wanted to be like Rick and his people, but not just be like them, but _be_ one of them.

Later, in the prison, that's exactly what she was. She still wasn't quite the woman she wanted to be, still flinched when she stabbed a walker through the skull, still got taken off guard by the throwback of her gun, but she was one step closer to being that woman and every day, one step closer to staying alive.

Coming back to life was a difficult process; an intense one, like being reborn. Everything was sharper, brighter, more vivid and open to her. She took note of things, of people, of their expressions and their behaviours. Carol's nervous ear scratch, Rick's face rubbing, Carl's fingers clenching the edge of his daddy's hat, Maggie's nail picking and Daryl's lip chewing.

Daryl.

He became the most vivid of all, the most startling, exploding in her vision to a new light. He was so handsome and one of the best men she had ever met. Kind beneath all of his bravado and fiercely loyal. Full of an intense need to please and a heart rending vulnerability on his shoulders that she didn't think he was aware of.

All his nervous little ticks and habits, his deep-set scowls and bulging, menacing biceps. Despite the sensory overload he is to her, the one thing she picks out of the crowd the most is the way he sucks his fingers clean. He does it all the time and sometimes he looks like he's just doing it for the sake of doing it, a mindless habit.

Other times it's a very conscious thing, something defiant and unique. Every time he sucks his fingers clean of a meal he's proving a point, marking his stance to whoever's watching. There's still old-world manners in these people's bones and they don't have cutlery anymore but no one eats as savagely as Daryl does, something still prim and proper in the way they clean up.

He was a hillbilly, a common guy and he knows it. He still doesn't feel like he fits in with them, that he's one of them and she identifies with that because she feels like this group have embraced her loving father and her strong-willed sister but she's just the unfortunate side package that got tied to those two skilled members of the group.

Beth understands how Daryl feels, she understands the need to clean his fingers off with his mouth like an animal and show his defiant need to stand out from the crowd and be accepted for all of his flaws. But while she identifies and respects the movement, she's also completely and utterly fixated on it.

There's not one thing she can think of in this world that has ever turned her on so much. To be completely honest, she's never really experienced things like this. In the time where she should have been understanding her body and exploring with boys, she was losing her family, her life and her mind.

There was never time for that and now it's like everything that was repressed and shut down is sparking back to life any time she glances at Daryl's biceps or his hair in his eyes or his ass, the outline of his crotch and God, every goddamn time he sucks his fingers, it's like her panties are being soaked with several glasses of water and it leaves her red faced and aching.

She's never wanted someone so bad in her life and it's progressively getting harder to act normal or even pay attention to her surroundings when she's got Daryl in her sights. Like right now, she is literally sitting in front of her whole family but her stupid fucking eyes won't tear themselves away from Daryl's thick fingers disappearing into his mouth.

He pulls them free and reaches down hooked fingers to his cut open can before he stops, looking up at her from under his eyelashes and through the fringes of his hair. "What? Ain't got no fancy ass table manners like you but I ain't no fuckin' freak show to stare at, girl."

Beth startles and glances around as everyone stops talking and stares at the two of them. With burning cheeks, she looks back down at her food. "Er, nothin', just spaced out. Sorry."

Daryl hums and scoops up more food while Maggie places the back of her hand on Beth's forehead and forces her to look up. "You comin' down with somethin'? We were out there all winter. What'd you think daddy? Is she sick?"

"Calm down," Beth mutters, jerking away. "M'fine, jus' a little tired."

"Beth, just let daddy loo-"

"I said I'm fine!" She snaps.

The table falls silent again and it's Daryl's interested eyes she connects with before she glances away sharply and backs her chair out so it scrapes across the floor. Without a word she leaves, her heart beating wildly and her face bright red but clit pulsing so hard she nearly cums when she catches Daryl's eyes tracking her walking out the door.

* * *

Later on, after her meltdown, long after everyone's gone to sleep, Beth is starving. She abandoned nearly all her dinner earlier on and while it's not only biting her in the ass now, it was a really fucking stupid idea then because she knows better than to waste food. Now a feeling she knows all too well is stirring and this time, it's not because of Daryl Dixon.

She's so goddamn hungry and she's willing to take down anyone who gets in her way of eating. Setting her face into a scowl in case of stragglers tonight, she smacks her curtain aside and leaves her cell practically on her toes. There doesn't seem to be anyone around though which is good because she hasn't got much tolerance for human interaction.

She's pretty sure her periods coming, which isn't something she's been able to experience all winter being under fed and exhausted. Now her body is settling back into regular meals, she's been cramping up and her skin is acting out. Any day now though it could be coming and she's more certain of the thought when she gets a pang in her sweet tooth.

God, she misses chocolate so bad. Ice cream too. Licking her lips, Beth slips into the kitchen and cradles her stomach. What can she eat that's going to satisfy her craving? The sweetest thing they've got is jam… She hunts around the kitchen for it and uncaps the lid, glancing around quickly before she pulls a Daryl and scoops jam onto her fingers.

Her eyes flutter closed as she moans to herself, opening them quickly and reaching inside for another eager scoop. "Hey, save summa that."

Beth jumps, nearly dropping the jar and barely catching it against the counter. "You scared the crap outta me wh-"

She goes silent as she looks up, her voice dying in her throat. Daryl Dixon is out of bed and he looks sinful. His hair is mussed and standing up in a way she's never seen before and lends a boyish quality to his face as do his relaxed eyes. Apparenly, it's too soon for him to start scowling yet.

His face isn't even the most torturous part though because the man that rides her every thought train is standing in front of her in nothing but sweats. Low slung ones that sit on his hips like temptation. She can't even believe this is something she's witnessing as if she needs to pinch herself to confirm reality.

Never in all her wildest fantasies has she pictured Daryl wearing sweatpants. He doesn't seem like the type of guy but Jesus was she wrong. Nothing has ever looked so good on him and with no top on either, all hell is breaking loose between her legs. While she's internally rejoicing, she watches Daryl grow more uncomfortable.

Beth frowns a little, feeling almost bad for finding such visual pleasure in his appearance when she can see how tense and rigid his whole spine has gone.

"What?" He snaps.

She shakes her head trying to analyse his jumping muscles. Does he want to run? If he wants to leave, why is he still here?

"Nothin'," she finally answers. "Just cravin' some sweet stuff."

He hums and crosses his arms and God she hopes he doesn't notice her squeeze her legs together in her pathetic little sleep shorts. Looking between the two of them and what they're wearing, Beth finds it almost shameful that they've resorted to wearing different outfits to sleep in.

It's like they're too comfortable here already, even though Daryl's been talking about staying on guard and Beth has been privately agreeing with him. Yet here they are, completely unprepared should anything happen. Her in a crappy vest top and tiny shorts and his bare feet, shirtless torso and wielding nothing but those goddamn huge biceps.

After dancing a little on his feet, he seems to make the decision to stay because he steps forward, albeit with a jerk in his step. "Why'd you run off earlier?"

She scoops up more jam, blushing when he raises his eyebrow at her choice in cutlery. "Just sick of Maggie not listenin' to me. She's scared I'm lyin' 'bout how I'm feelin' 'cause of… y'know," she finishes with a shrug.

Daryl comes closer and while she sticks her fingers in her mouth and licks them clean, he reaches over with his own two hooked fingers and chooses a huge chunk of jam, pressing it along the side and coaxing it out of the opening all the way up to his mouth. With her own jam long swallowed, she stares as he licks his fingers clean.

By the end of it, she's no longer sucking her own but biting them, her heart racing in her chest at his eyes staring unflinchingly at her. "Right."

There's a silence but it's not awkward and they fill it by taking turns to dip their fingers in the jam and scoop up chunks to their mouth. After a while, she feels too sick to carry on although still craving ice cream despite her sickly stomach. Daryl goes on twice more before he stops too, turning the lid with one hand and using his other to suck a droplet of jam up from his thumb.

Not long after he pushes it aside, he clears his throat and jerks his chin in a random direction. "Gonna head out."

"Okay, night," she mumbles, still not tired enough to go to her cell.

Daryl nods and turns to leave, her eyes straying to his ass for so long she nearly misses the scars all over his back when he goes to turn the corner. Before she can stop herself, she gasps aloud and because it's so quite it resounds off of everything, tripling her heart rate in a second flat.

He stops and turns on the heels of his feet, a lot more graceful than she would have expected him to be and scowls at her. "You got summat to say?"

Beth blushes and shakes her head, realising this must have been why he was dancing around the door earlier. He wanted to turn and leave straight away but he knew she would see his back and instead he tried to delay by coming in here and interacting with her. Daryl scowls deeper and she blushes even harder.

"I'm sorry," she apologises quickly as he opens his mouth. "I really am."

"You're always fuckin' judgin' ain't you?" He hisses. "First at dinner an' now this."

"No!" Beth denies quickly, standing from her seat and rounding the table as she says, "you've got it all wrong, Dar-"

His voice raises as he comes closer. "Have I? Cause' you're always starin'! Catch you lookin' at me all damn day! What is it, girl? You ain't never seen a hillbilly before? Walkers comin' make you rude?"

"What? Daryl c'mon, you're blowin' this way outta proportion! It ain't like that!"

"Liar," he mutters darkly. "You been watchin' me since the farm. You got summat against me? You got somethin' to say? Why don't you go ahead and jus' say it, girl, damn!"

"I don't judge you when I stare at you, idiot! I don't stare 'cause I'm judgin' you! I stare 'cause I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you!"

A pin could be heard in the silence but all that sounds is Beth's muttered, "shit."


	2. Chapter 2

**Guys, you would not believe my bad fucking luck! My second, brand new laptop broke after the first one did and I brought this one. It may take up to a week to fix but I suffered the annoyance of uploading via phone to get this update to you. I feel terrible that I've just come back and this happens, like I'm teasing you guys. I'm really not, it's just shitty timing. Please hold out for me, I will make it up to you guys and also, please excuse errors, they're so hard to pick up on the phone.**

"The fuck you talkin' 'bout?" Daryl hisses, gripping her by the arm tightly and hauling her closer until they're practically chest to chest.

"Ow! Get off!" She snaps. "Forget I said any of that, you're such a jerk!"

"Girl, this ain't nothin' to be fuckin' jokin' 'bout!"

"Why would I be jokin'?" Beth scowls. "I'm serious alrite? I like you. I have for ages now an' I'm sorry, I know you're older an' I'm just some kid to you, but I can't help it."

"Yeah?" Daryl asks, throwing her arm away. "Well you're just gonna have to."

"You think I ain't been tryin'?" She fumes, pulling away until she's closer to the kitchen counter. "I have! But you're makin' it hard!"

"The hell you talkin' 'bout?" He mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning.

"That! Right there!" She whisper-yells, indicating to his crossed arms. "Your biceps are huge an' then you do that an' they are _huge_. C'mon Daryl you gotta know what you're doin'!"

He continues to frown at her, his jaw ticking like she's making fun of him and his face colouring red. "This is a dumb ass joke, Beth."

"I'm not jokin'! God, this is another thing. You don't even know how amazin' you are. Why can't I like you? Why can't I crush on you? You're hot an' loyal an' sweet an' kind. You're so good with Judith an' you love Rick, you love Carol. You'd do anythin' for all of us, Daryl. I think you're amazin'."

Jesus fucking Christ her face is burning and if her heart goes any faster she's going to black out. She can barely hear her own exaggerated breaths over the drumming of her pulse, resonating from one spot to the next like a network of thrumming lights echoing together. A symphony of her own paralysed embarrassment.

Out loud, to his face, Beth has told the man she is crushing on how and why she's crushing on him. How much more of a dork can she be? If he was another, average guy then he would be laughing his ass off right out the door and leaving her to fester in her own shame. But that's the perfect, heart breaking thing about Daryl Dixon: _he doesn't even believe her._

How can he mock her for something he doesn't believe in? He actually thinks she's trying to embarrass him, show him up or do something to make him feel low and insecure. At every turn, he tugs so hard on her heartstrings its near impossible not to fall for him a little bit. It's not love by any stretch of the word but it's definitely something.

"Who put you up to it? Rick? Carol tell you to come an' make me feel better with some cheap ass flirtin'?" Daryl growls.

Beth's throat tightens and she glances away. "So I'm not good at it, but you gotta make me feel like a child?"

There's silence but she can't possibly face him. Is she really that cringe worthy? Cheap? She wasn't trying to flirt with him but putting her thoughts and feelings into being with fear of being ridiculed, hurts so much more when she is and to her face no less. She knows he's just reacting to what he thinks is cheap shots but it still makes her eyes water.

"Beth," he whispers huskily, curling his fingers around her cheekbone and turning her to face him.

She glances up with her arms crossed over her chest, blinking as rapidly as she can when she says, "what?"

He frowns down at her, his skin so warm on her flesh it makes her whole cheek set fire. "You serious?"

" _Yes_ ," Beth emphasises as hard as she can. "I don't expect nothin' from it, of course I don't, but I don't want you to ever think I'm judgin' you or tryin'a hurt you. I don't wanna do that. I want you to know how special you are 'cause I don't think anyone tells you."

They stare at each other and Beth's mind races, the feel of his hand heavy and calloused on her cheek. It's like all those fantasies she's had, late at night in her bunk of Daryl touching her and now it's happening, even just this tiny thing, her brain is churning trying to keep her face straight and her heart rate at a healthy level.

That idea goes out the window when he leans in and takes her mouth. It's not even like he just leans in slowly, he charges in, his other hand reaching up to grip her other cheek and pull her towards him. When their mouths meet it's nothing less than what she always thought it would be: explosive.

Her body reacts on instinct, her arms which were pinned between their chests raising up to grip his wrists and hold tight, her lips parting beneath his pressing tongue. He's warm and intoxicating, his open mouth flooding an exotic taste and sensation into her own mouth and down her throat.

When his tongue sweeps around hers, twining until she's forced to move with him, stroking their tongues together, Beth's pussy walls contract in yearning. Juices flood hot and heavy into her sleep shorts which is the only thing she's wearing on her lower half, the fabric latching with the lube and moulding around her clit, sending bolts of excitement through her stomach.

Oh my God, is this really happening? Is she really kissing Daryl Dixon? He stops just as she thinks it and she nearly follows his mouth as he tugs away to stare at her. She stares back, all hope of keeping her heart rate even anywhere close to normal out of the window, no longer an option. She realises she's still hanging on to his wrist but her fingers are locked.

Daryl doesn't seem too interested in unlocking them either, allowing her to hold them gripped and suspended between their chests. He stares intently, silently and rather than make her anxious his gaze makes her hot, so many stabs of heat blasting across her scalp and spine she's paralysed by it.

God, he's gorgeous. There's no other way to say it or describe him. He's completely out of her league, out of this world and it breaks her heart that he doesn't know his own worth or believe in himself. All she wants to do is prove to him how amazing he is, how he makes her feel when he stares at her, when he chews his lip in concentration.

"Say somethin'," Beth finally whispers. "You're makin' me nervous."

"I ain't got nothin' to say. Nothin' tha's gonna come out how I want it to."

"What does that mean?" She frowns, backing away a little towards the counter.

She expects Daryl to let go but he doesn't and when her lower back connects with the hard surface behind her, she doesn't expect for him to go down with her, but he does. Angled backwards, her body is slanted between the razor-sharp edge at her back and Daryl's hot, hard body at her front.

"Daryl whatever it is just say it," she murmurs.

His eyes are clouded like he's thinking of something but overthinking about it, pushing it through his head a thousand times until finally he grumbles, "can I…"

"Yeah?" Beth presses eagerly.

"Eatyou?" He breathes out in one word. "Can I taste you?"

"Here?" She squeaks pathetically. "In the kitchen?"

His cheeks colour and he releases her wrists, pulling away as he talks, "forget it. Fuckin' dumb, should'a k-"

"Okay," she interrupts him.

"What?" He asks, turning back to look at her.

"Yes, c'mon, you can have anythin' you want."

He flushes deeper red and lifts his thumb to his mouth, chewing on the skin there as he stares at her. "Y'sure, girl? Don't want you regettin' nothin' and cryin' rape."

"Daryl!" She gasps. He blushes harder and she instantly feels terrible, his gaze shuttering off. "I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I ain't no good at this, I keep sayin' all the wrong things."

He still doesn't answer her so she shuffles a little on her feet. "You still wanna…"

"Yeah," he breathes, dropping his thumb.

"Okay," Beth whispers again, gripping the counter and hoisting herself up. "How'd you want me?"

"Right there." He jerks his chin to the back of the surface space where it meets the wall.

"Here?"

"Yeah."

She nods and settles a little more comfortably where she's been directed, her burning skin pressing to the cold surface and making her shiver. Her eyes stray down Daryl's body to the front of his sweats, her mouth watering at the outline of his cock. When she looks back up, he clears his throat and walks towards her, staying out of the width of her thighs.

"You can come closer y'know," Beth teases with a reassuring smile. "I won't bite. 'Less you want me to."

Daryl bites down on his lip and steps into the space between her thighs until they're eye to eye. When he talks, it's so quiet it makes her spine prickle. "Lie back."

Trying not to be rigid about it, Beth lies back on the surface as much as she can, spreading her legs wide and placing her hands on the flat of her belly. Daryl stares at this, his eyes tracing her fingers splaying across her bare skin where her vest top has ridden up her hips. Her chest rises and falls dramatically and rather than watch his face which is turning her inside out, she tries to control her breathing.

It's hard though and so much harder than is allowed when Daryl's hands reach towards her shorts and _shake_.

"Daryl," she whispers.

He stops to look at her. "Don't do anything you don't want to do."

"I wanna taste…" he struggles and she waits for him to say more. When he doesn't, she doesn't think much of it, but he surprises her by finishing with, "your pussy. I wanna know what it tastes like."

Beth's eyes flutter closed because Christ she is going to combust and it's more likely to happen when he murmurs, "can I take these off?"

"You ain't gotta ask," she whispers, opening her eyes again.

He nods, his fingers slightly stiff when he pulls at her shorts and wiggles them down her thighs. They only get to her knees before he stops and she has to close her eyes again because the look on his face is pure, sweet agony. Such awe and interest, a burning flame behind it all that says he wants to devour her.

Beth's own shaking fingers press to her mouth when he leans closer, his breath stroking along the lips of her pussy. She doesn't know how she manages it, but somehow her eyes stay open to watch his tongue wet his lips and then when he's close enough, brushing over the lips of her cunt.

She practically mewls, pressing her fingers even harder to her quivering lips when she watches his tongue push through her pussy lips and part them in his quest for her clit. Her spine jerks and his hands shoot up to press down on her thighs, locking her against the counter.

Beth moans deeper at the action, especially because it was an unconscious one. Daryl hasn't even noticed what he's done, too entranced with his tongue exploring her clit and his lips brushing across her inner thighs. He's like a kid in a candy shop, trying all the flavours and his curiosity makes her cunt flood with juices.

When he notices the extra wet, he glances up through his eyelashes and strings of hair, his eyes zeroing in on her lower lip caught between her teeth now that her fingers have fallen away. It triggers something in him, she knows it does because unlike his curious exploration before, he releases her thighs to part her pussy lips with his thumbs and dive in.

She expects him to latch onto her clit as that seems to be his favourite place and her spine locks in preparation for the overload of sensation, but that's not where his tongue goes. Instead, he collects the sticky arousal from her entrance and laps it straight onto his tongue, pushing the muscle deeper until he rims her.

Her eyes practically roll into the back of her head and she can't resist reaching down with two fingers to brush against her sensitive clit, grinding her head back against the hard surface beneath her to press her hips higher. Daryl groans into her cunt and pushes even harder, his tongue popping through the ring of tight muscles to her inner walls.

Beth sobs, rolling her head on her shoulders to shove her face into the crook of her elbow and mute her sounds. Daryl presses even harder and her fingers turn faster, her toes curling with the onslaught of an orgasm that pounds through her blood stream. She shakes like a leaf and Daryl laps at the gush of fluid like a thirsty dog, whimpering like one too.

She bites hard on her lip because if even just a tiny sound should slip out, she knows she's going to scream the place down. She was right too because when Daryl's done drinking up her juices, he stands back and watches her fingers still lazily turning on her clit, his mouth smeared with juices.

Beth's face burns as he watches her but she doesn't stop. Instead she lightly caresses her clit, still jerking and twitching at a certain spot. She can't work out whether he wants her to stop or not because all he does is stare but when she's about to pause and ask if he's okay, he softly pushes her fingers away and replaces them with his own.

Internally she cringes a little, worried he's going to be too rough with her because every guy she's been with before has ground down on her clit until there's tears standing in her eyes. She should have known though, what he was doing. He was studying her. For less than a minute he watched her rub her clit and now he replicates it flawlessly.

Beth's mouth gapes open and no sound at all manages to escape her throat, not even when he goes back down to lick at her entrance eagerly. She doesn't think she'll have another orgasm so close to just experiencing one, but then Daryl hesitates at her ass and before she even gasps out, "yes, yes!" to his murmured, "can I…." she knows she's going to explode.

She was right because his tongue presses into the resisting muscles back there and her whole stomach clamps tight, a spring compressing and releasing in the same nano second until she feels like she's flying. "Fuck!"

"Shh!" Daryl stands up quickly, his eyes wild and frightened. "Girl c'mon, quiet."

Beth whimpers and curls her body into his when he reaches down to cradle her, her face turning into his bicep and biting there. He curses and crushes her to his chest by the hand on her lower back. " _Jesus_."

"God, I want you to fuck me," Beth breathes. "I wanna ride you."

"Christ," Daryl groans huskily. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

She bites harder and grinds her hips against him. "C'mon, you wanna, I know you do, I feel it," she whispers softly, cupping his hard cock and squeezing.

Daryl yelps like a kicked puppy, but before he can anything, there's movement in the hallway and, "someone up?" Carol's voice says close by.

Daryl and Beth freeze and jump apart at the same second. Reaching down, she yanks on her shorts and shoves her fingers through her hair. "Just me Carol, comin' back to bed now."

"Can you bring Judith a bottle?" Her voice says as it fades back towards a distant baby's cry. "She's really unsettled."

"Sure, no problem."

Carol doesn't answer and Beth looks to Daryl with a wobbly smile. "Come see me in an' hour?"

He jerks his chin and she nods too, about to leave on shaking legs to get Judith's bottle off Carol when Daryl grips her arm and turns her back to face him. Quietly, he leans into her ear and asks, "was that alright?"

Beth pulls back and laughs. "Daryl, this is why."

"Why what?" He asks with a frown.

She smiles, a little sadly. "Why you're amazin'."


	3. Chapter 3

**SURPRISE!**

Beth's not really sure if she's still living in reality any more or if she just tumbled down a rabbit hole of insanity as she shakily climbs into the bottom bunk, her knees still weak, heart still pounding and throat dry. There are delicious aftershocks blooming between her thighs and vibrating through her bones, forcing her to clench her teeth against whimpers.

What the hell just happened to her? To him? To _them_? Is labelling it as a 'them' even mentally, a clever thing to do? Probably not but she hasn't got a whole lot of experience in this kind of thing and she's prone to obsessing. Even more so with the guy she hasn't stopped thinking about in weeks, possibly months.

She's not sure, time doesn't really work properly anymore, doesn't adhere to previous rules and that's probably why everything happened so fast, why Daryl Dixon's goddamn head was buried between her legs… what? Ten minutes ago? Twenty? Then why is he already pushing softly through the curtain over her cell?

Has it already been an hour? God, she must be losing it. If it really has been an hour, her body hasn't calmed down in that time and now her heart doesn't so much as start jackhammering as it simply increases, having only been two steps away from a full on cardiac fucking arrest.

Jesus, she's trembling.

She needs to _calm down_ , but he's just standing at the curtain and she's too scared to tip her head back and look at him from where her back lays towards him. Beth knows she should say something. She invited him after all and now she's lying here pretending to be asleep. He could leave and she's not sure if she wants him too or not.

Yes, she's been obsessing and God, the kitchen earlier was like a fantasy blooming to life with fucking fairy dust, but this is the cold hard reality of her cell and it feels like if he penetrates this space he absorbs everything about her. In the kitchen, come morning, in the light, it will be like a lucid dream.

In her cell, she'll come back every night and smell him on her sheets. Smell _her and him_ because she's not fickle and he ain't stupid neither, they both know why she invited him back. Reason couldn't be clearer without him bringing her to a trembling orgasm on the kitchen counter, let alone with that being a real factor. So now what? He still hasn't moved and neither has she.

"Beth," he grumbles lowly. "You up?"

Daryl's voice freezes her and there's a spinning fantasy… a _sick_ one, of the oldest man in the group creeping into her room, hers: eighteen-year-old Beth Greene after showing her what he can make her feel. Of his sneaking around, of his hoarse throat as he tries to keep quiet. It all sends a sick thrill through her and her pussy pulses.

Her answer is a strangled moan. Though she understands it, she's sure Daryl will be perplexed as to how his voice can make her moan, even though it can. He's probably laughing at her a little bit and it brings such clarity to the thought that she's so young and inexperienced that his mere voice can make her stomach swoop with excitement.

"You playin' girl?" He whispers.

Beth buries her face in the pillow because is she? Is that what she's doing? Has she teased him with a little slice of her in the kitchen, yapping on about _this is why_ and _you can do what you want?_ Not like she imagines he would hurt her but the thought of him gripping her thighs and _demanding_ to fuck her…

She shivers, imagining those huge biceps flexing as he keeps her still and fucks her cunt. Jesus. Her body tenses when she hears his soft step forward, one after another and another. Three in total to reach her and then his hand strokes over the exposed line of her throat, his fingers stroking the baby hairs there and forcing her trembling to intensify.

His fingers suddenly flex and grip, tightly holding the nape of her neck with his strong fingers and pressing her face down into her pillow until she's gasping with rapid dashes of fear and excitement, receding and flowing like the ocean into her pussy. Her chest physically hurts, strained as she struggles for breath.

It's only as he comes closer and whispers into her ear, "this okay?" That she relaxes.

Not physically: she's still tense with the thrums of adrenaline and terror of being manhandled like this. But mentally yes, this is okay and she only about manages to nod but he takes that and continues on with this sudden, feral Daryl, like the one who ate her pussy compared to the man she knows in her family: quiet, sullen.

His teeth close around the lobe of her ear and she can't help but whimper into the fabric of her pillow, so unbearably turned on she's _aching._ God, she's never felt like this before and it's all a bit twisted and irrational, that this man nearly as old as her daddy is making her pussy drip like honey, soaking her panties with the juicy essence.

It's a little sick but she can't hide how much she's getting off on it, how much she likes him sneaking into her cell in the depths of the night, in the pitch black to grip her neck and grind her face down into the thin pad of the mattress she sleeps on like an errant dog who's pissed where it shouldn't have.

She feels exactly like an errant puppy like she's been _bad_ and justified in the knowledge that bad girls get _punished_ and her punishment is due. She's been so bad, watching him eat, watching him sucking his fingers clean and wishing it was her pussy juices he was enjoying so damn much.

Beth's been so bad and she's ready, she's ready for Daryl to show her what happens to bad girls. He groans softly as his hand worms under the blanket and the fact that she's under it and he's not, that he hasn't joined her in bed like a lover but instead hovered on the edge like a mysterious shadow sent to touch her up ramps her up so much she can't stand it.

Pricks of a million hot needles pierce her skin and her clit, driving her need even higher. His fingers, his big, warm palm meets the bare flesh of her waist where her top has wriggled up and he can't seem to take it, just as overwhelmed by this whole sordid encounter as she is that his hand grips her waist and shoves.

Obediently she goes up on her knees, pushing her ass up in the air like a bitch in heat as Daryl strips the blanket away, stinging her bare thighs with the cold air. It's such a contradiction to the heat over the rest of her body, especially her face which is burning up in the twist of sheets and the thick curtain of her hair.

It's clumpy and knotted, all the curls nestling against her lips and eyelashes, hot little nests that buffer her face with excruciating heat and no chance for cold air. Beth's too lost in the excitement though, her belly quivering as bad as her frozen thighs when Daryl's hot fingers stroke from her knee to her pussy.

It's no longer quivering but pure shaking, high on the rush of anticipation and ready for a crash back into relief. He stops a minute to soothe her flesh, stroking and massaging her ass through her shorts. She whines with impatience, too strung up on the thoughts in her head to calm the fuck down.

"Shh girl, you're good, I got you. Ain't gotta be scared."

Scared? Is that what she is? Possibly, but not for the reason Daryl thinks. Not scared of him, but of herself, of how much she's enjoying this, of how much she's twisted it into her sick fantasy. Him, coercing his young little piece of meat to just calm down, relax so he can make everything so, so good.

God, she wants it so bad, she's in pain. Even more pain when he hooks his hands into her shorts and tugs on them, pulling so they fall down her thighs and get to just above her bent knees where he leaves them, bunched and bounding her legs together. Jesus Christ, he's tying her up. All he needs to do now is bound her hands and she's gonna cum.

Bound and gagged, ass up in the air and pussy ready for his cock. Jesus God, breathe, breathe. She might pass out, she might actually need to get out of this swaddle of pillow and sheet and hair before she honest to God faints. Is that a possibility? Can she faint if she just goes mad with impatience, with this carnal need burning through her like the fucking devil?

Daryl's fingers travel down her bare ass and she goes cross-eyed into the darkness she's smothered in, moaning desperately the nearer he draws to her throbbing cunt. Please, please. She's not sure if she says it aloud or not but it doesn't matter because it doesn't speed him. She should have known he wouldn't rush, that he's still Daryl in this beast.

A beast to claim the bitch in heat she's become, offering her pussy for anyone to sink into. God, she could scream. She thinks she's gonna go insane and he hasn't even touched her yet. She's terrified of what it will feel like to cum again, of how he'll make her feel and she's even tempted to tell him to stop and just go because she can't take it.

She feels like she's made out of tissue paper and the onslaught of an orgasm is going to be the only thing she needs to be torn to shreds and blown to the wind. She feels so fragile but it all adds to the arousal, how small she feels beneath his hulking shadow, his very presence, let alone his physical body.

Those biceps. Goddamn, she has to bite them. _Has_ to. His fingers are rough and slow on her skin but they soon reach the jackpot and she knew she was gonna scream, she knew it because his thick fingers pushing into her pussy are pure magic. She didn't think there would be anything better than his tongue but he's gone and topped himself.

Beth's stomach cramps with the pleasure and she tucks her bound knees in, bringing his driving fingers deeper inside her. She gasps desperately, her hips jerking even though she's not making the command, her pussy too hungry and desperate for the wonders he can bestow upon her body.

He growls, dark and feral and oh so fucking delicious and she actually sobs, an onslaught of arousal pebbling her skin. He's like an animal even without fucking her, but with his fingers gaining speed and soon ploughing into her grasping pussy walls, Beth's reaffirmed in the knowledge while completely lost in the pleasure of his fingers.

He's got two in there and they stretch her like he's shoved a fucking beer can inside her, thick and meaty like she's praying his cock is gonna be, her clit stretched taut over his fingers and pounding with need, crying for attention. Daryl pants desperately, so eager to bring her to orgasm and it's so endearing, so damn sexy it's all she wants to do for him.

She wants to cum and cum until she can't stand it just to show him how he's making her feel, how he's making her goddamn body feel. Though if he can't tell from her mutilated sobbing she's not sure what else will convince him. Daryl's thumb nuzzles around his fingers and her throat convulses, imaging him fucking her with two fingers and his thumb.

Beth's not sure she can handle that kind of sexual torment but she shouldn't have worried, because his thumb pushes into her asshole and there is no longer a good enough word to describe what he's doing to her body, let alone 'sexual torment' and she's actually screaming now, screams that will wake people to her dirty little secret but she can't stop.

Daryl's hand squeezes against her head, cutting off her voice and the absolute fucking terror just makes her explode, the tight constriction of her chest echoing in her ass and pussy as she clenches down on Daryl's fingers and squeezes. He howls something wounded and broken against her neck and her skin floods in goosebumps.

Jesus, _God_. Who the fuck is this man? Who the fuck looked at him and thought 'he should be a _God_ in bed?' _Who_? She's not made for this. She's just a little country bumpkin, eighteen years old living a relatively shitty fucking life. She is not a busty brunette in a trashy romance novel who catches the hottest guy's eye and makes him think _her_.

 _I want her_. She isn't made for this erotic novel level sex and excitement, she can't fucking handle it and she is truly, honest to God sobbing. Daryl pulls his fingers free and she can't even make a noise at the pour of liquid that spills down her thighs and soaks her bedsheets, beading on the backs of her knees.

"You good?" He heaves.

She's sobbing like a fucking baby, not pleasured sobs either but real, heavy ones but she is good. She's fucking fabulous and she can't understand this stupid reaction she's having but it's all part of the sordid little affair. The pretend. The girl who's ashamed that the big, strong man made her enjoy the pleasure she tried to deny.

"God, get the fuck in here."

For some reason, Beth thinks he's going to slide under the covers and cuddle her, comfort her, but he doesn't. He grips her cum soaked thighs and spins her towards him, bringing her ass to his waist level. Beth gasps, cutting off her sobs in startled surprise, not sure which decision she preferred.

Does she want comfort or more? Who is she _kidding_? She's always gonna want more because this is fucking addicting and she's already gasping like a dog when she hears the stripping of his belt buckle. Her throat floods with saliva and it silences her as she gags it back. She has air in this position and she almost hates it.

Just as much as she loves the head of his cock pushing past her swollen pussy lips to nestle against her opening. Breathe, breathe, breathe. But she doesn't _want_ to. She wants his claiming, his dominance when he wraps his hand around the nape of her neck.

" _Please_ ," she begs.

"Please what, girl? What'du want?"

Really good fucking question. To be fucked? To be strangled? Both?

"Fuck me," she settles, offering her ass higher. "Please, Daryl, please."

"Christ s'good to hear you beg. Don't like lies though, girl."

He lands a ringing slap on her ass and she's so absorbed in the burning heat that she doesn't even worry how loud it was in the quiet cell.

"Tell me what you fuckin' want or I'll show you."

My God, what's the better option? They're both really good fucking ideas.

"C-choke me. Oh God, please. I like it so much."

The shame burns like a lit cigarette in her intestines but she's not taking it back.

"You're one kinky bitch, Beth Greene," he mumbles in her ear.

She mewls as his teeth bite into her shoulder, his hand pressing against her ass and spreading her cheek upwards so he can thrust into her cunt. She grunts, slamming her hand into the concrete wall in front of her to catch her weight, so conscious suddenly of Rick lying on the other side of that wall.

Can he hear them fucking? Will he say anything about it? Will he tell someone? Fuck, she doesn't care right now. Daryl's cock pulling out right until the thick, mushroom head pops out of her tight pussy with a dull sting and pushes back in again is one of the most divine experiences she's ever had and she'll defend it until the day she dies.

Everyone in the world deserves to feel pleasure like she is and she is not passing up fucking Daryl Dixon for the rest of her goddamn miserable life if she can just feel like this every time. She grunts again, her hand pushing against the wall and pressing her ass back into Daryl's cock, hips rocking in some kind of rhythm to his fucking.

"So fuckin' tight," he growls desperately, the hand on her hip rising to wrap around her throat and _squeeze_.

"Oh my God," she squeaks, her pussy clenching tight all he needs in order to know how much she likes what he just did.

His fingers dig harder into her throat and the oxygen just cuts off from her brain, forcing her eyes to roll back as her nails scrabble at the wall and she cums all over Daryl's dick. He groans and pulls out so she can splash more cum onto the sheets, her knees wobbling as Daryl's cock rubs up and down her soaked slit, teasing her clit until she spasms.

He catches her as she falls with the second spasm, holding her up and still strangling her, gentler now though. Beth moans into the cold concrete of the wall as she lets her face fall into it, her cheeks wet with tears and her chin soaked with spit. The fact that Daryl doesn't give her time to recover might be why she lets him do it.

The pure excitement of the claiming is enough to override the soreness of her poor, over sensitive cunt. His cock fucks through her clamped pussy walls and fights with barriers he meets until he's balls deep in her again, squeezing her throat and her left tit as he fucks her viciously, their skin slapping together and his belt smacking the soft skin of her inner thigh so damn loud.

So fucking exciting.

She's not made for multiple orgasms and she's nearly unconscious as he plough into her, but enjoying it so damn much her stomach is quivering. Beth has no clue how long he fucks her, honestly, she thinks she slides in and out of unconsciousness but she comes to for a second as he sprays cum over her ass.

It's so damn territorial it makes Beth's pussy pound one last, pitiful time. Daryl doesn't merely collapse over her after that, no, he weighs her down so much she falls dramatically into the thin mattress, his soft cock resting between her ass cheeks. She's just about slipped into sleep when his voice wakes her.

"S'that alrite? You okay? M'sorry, I got all carried away an' shit."

She has just enough energy to snort her amusement. "Daryl Dixon, I am lyin' in soakin' wet sheets of my own cum 'cause of you. M'way damn better than 'alrite.'"

He snorts his own amusement. "Go sleep."

"Yes, Sir," she murmurs sarcastically, letting her eyes slide back shut. "Will you stay a bit?"

There's a hesitation and then, "'til you fall'a sleep."

She hums, she'll have to deal with it. "Night, Daryl."

"Night, girl.


End file.
